A Future in the Past
by dirkpittluver87
Summary: This starts after Silense of the Lambs, and then jumps to after Hannibal. Clarice has a son that Hannibal does not know about, but you can bet he will find out. Will they end together in the end?
1. Prologue

Summary & Disclaimer: Yeah, unfortunately I don't own any of the Hannibal or Silence of the Lamb Characters. Thomas Harris does, and I resent him for it! This is my first fic, but don't go easy on me with the reviews, because I can take it! Honestly! But if I do not get any reviews, I will assume you do not like it :(

**IMPORTANT:** The Prologue takes place sometime between the Silence of the Lambs and Hannibal. Just to set the story in motion, this plot assumes that Hannibal and Clarice had an affair, with Hannibal fleeing the country after this. The rest if the story takes place AFTER HANNIBAL. You will understand when you read the rest.

Prologue

It was nine and a half months after she shot Buffalo Bill, and Clarice Starling lay in the hospital bed crying. Not because of the events of that day, well not entirely. The pain came mostly from the baby that she was giving birth to.

Natural childbirth. Pain wracked her body, but there was no comforting man beside her for support. She was strong though, and she sighed in relief when the boy was pulled from her body.

The baby boy was a beautiful 6 pounds 3 ounces and 21 inches. She could tell from the puffy hair that he would have her colour. But the eyes were very distinct. Not her eyes at all.

Tears brimmed in her eyes again as she looked at her son. He was nameless and perfect and beautiful. He was innocent, and she intended for him to remain that way, so when the representative from the FBI and the adoption agency came in together, she managed to save face. She knew she was making the right decision. By giving him up for adoption, she was in fact saving him. Saving him from her past and her mistakes. By sacrificing her own happiness, she was ensuring his.

She would be surprised if He had found about her condition. She had just recently graduated from Quantico, and it was natural that she not be in the news. She kept herself out of public for the most part, relying on the kindnesses of Ardelia and her friends at the FBI. It was by Senator Martin and Jack Crawford calling in favors that she even had a job to go back to.

She could only picture what growing up for him would be like. She would rather have him laugh at the tabloids than show up on the front page as the "Child of a Monster". And what if He attempted to contact her or her son... what could she do? The FBI was reluctant to help, and it took her the entire term of her pregnancy to get them to protect her son.

"Would you like to hold him, miss?"

The question knocked her out of thought. "No, thank you. Please, let us make this as quick as possible. I do not want a relationship with him at all. The worst thing for the both of us would be if I grew attached."

The adoption representative, Mr. Kleary, turned to her. "It will be a closed adoption", he began, "The child's home will be private information not privy to anyone but the parents, top officials of the FBI, and myself. Once you sign these papers Ms. Starling, you will be relinquishing your rights as the parent of this child to his foster family. Any information regarding his parentage will be disclosed to him at the discretion of his new family, or by this agency once he reaches the age of 18, if he desires."

Clarice nodded numbly to show her understanding as she reviewed the paperwork. She could hear her son crying in the other room, and almost hesitated as she reached for a pen.

_Am I doing the right thing? Is this truly necessary? I could protect him._

_Not from the media,_ a small voice said, _you couldn't do that. You couldn't protect him from the stares, the humiliation, or the reporters. But most of all, you couldn't protect your son from Him._

The wailing in the next room grew louder as Clarice signed her son away. She closed her eyes and tried to fall asleep, but she could only hear the screaming. . .


	2. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: OK. Do I have to write one for every chapter? Well, just incase I will shove it in: No, in fact I did not create these characters. I know, it's such a shock. But anyway, thanks for the reviews. I wanted to write a fan fiction for a while, but I never got the time and... blah blah blah... back to the story! It might be a little dry at first, but I gotta explain a few things first, but keep reading, because it gets wicked good!

Oh and to any people reading this from Fremont Wisconsin, I mean no harm; I just randomly picked your town! It is an honor really!

contains a swear and adult themes

Chapter One

Psychology fascinated him. It was definitely his favorite class out of his new schedule. The only problem was, he was the only 9 year old in the class.

Weird.

Having skipped first, second, third, and eighth grade, Steven was definitely well ahead of most of the children his age. When he took a placement exam for the Fremont Elementary School, he scored so high they almost skipped him through Elementary School altogether. It was only through the insistence of his parents that he was able to have what you would call a "social life" and communicate with kids his own age.

However, when there were only about 500 kids in the whole school system, one found it hard to be social anyway. Fremont was a small town in Wisconsin about 20 miles from Oshkosh and 90 miles north of Madison. Plain and simple it was not the best for a boy with genius talents to be raised.

But back to Psychology. Steven found his eyes wandering through the textbook, reading what his eyes should not have touched for at least another four years. He smiled when he began to read the first chapter.

_This class is going to be so easy,_ he realized, _I know everything already._ From an early age, Steven found out how well he could manipulate those around him. It was really easy if you knew what to pay attention to.

For instance, his counselor smoked pot on her lunch break behind the school near the dumpster. He didn't catch her doing this, just smelled a faint whiff of the drug and yesterday's tuna salad on her as she walked by. Yeah, it was going to be really easy.

But the people he liked to mess with the most were his parents. Mostly because they weren't really his parents at all, but a foster family. His mom was a schoolteacher in the middle school, which most people thought was the reason for his genius. His dad was a lumberjack. He knew they were not his real parents because they looked at him differently that parents looked at their children. As if they had a horrible secret they couldn't share. Like they were afraid of him.

His mom was easy. She considered her faith in God to be absolute, that whenever she prayed God always answered her prayers. That was how he knew for sure that he was adopted. Because one night he heard her praying for her first child, praying that she could have a baby of her own. He was confused and hurt at first, not understanding, but soon his little brain put the pieces together and

BAM

He was adopted.

He had always imagined his parents coming for him. At first, they were famous people smiling and taking him away from this dull, ordinary life. Their teeth perfectly white and their clothes immaculately clean. They would talk about the latest songs and fashions. In a word chic.

Then, when the glamour of that life left him as he entered into school, he became gradually more realistic with his outlook. A normal family life with a small house off the coast of California. He had brothers and sisters there, and they had a kind heart, but little money. He imagined cookouts on the porch and the familiarity of close-knit family and a heritage, something he was sorely missing here disconnected from his blood.

Then, as he became aware of his own self-image and his place in the world, his parents turned into an image of scorn and disgust to him, drug addicts on the street maybe, his mother prostituting herself for money, to wrapped up in her own selfishness to care for her bastard son.

He peered out of his room into the parlor where his parents were watching the television with their newborn daughter, Gabrielle. The sound of the evening news filtered in to him:

". . . This ill fated drug raid that claimed his life and the life of five others is the latest in a series of seemingly endless series of incidents beginning with Waco, Texas, in which the Justice Department and the FBI have been questioned about their use of firepower rather than judgment. This time, it was FBI Special Agent Clarice Starling heading up the calamitous strike force. Agent Starling attained some measure of celebrity ten years ago when she was given information by the Doctor Hannibal "The Cannibal" Lector which led to the rescue of Catherine Martin. . ."

The station was quickly flipped as the adults exchanged looks. To Steven, it was not hard to tell that the news story had caused somewhat of a stir in his parents. He made a mental note to look up the various names he had heard, starting with Clarice Starling.

Author's Note: The clip from the news is from the movie Hannibal, and I have no rights or whatever to it. Just in case ;0)


End file.
